


Of Blood and Body

by heeroluva



Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: Banter, Biting, F/M, Marathon Sex, Negotiations, Other, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Stomach Bulge, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:05:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: “For twenty-four hours my body and blood are yours."“You think very highly of yourself, my lord.” The title is said mockingly.“You insult us.”(Arthur comes to an accord with the Syrens.)





	Of Blood and Body

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts).



“The creatures in the waters beneath the keep, what are they?” Arthur asks the mage.

“Syrens some call them. They are the keepers of destiny of the people on this island, and they lure men with offers of power. For a price. All kings have forged a pact with them.”

“My father—”

“Even your father.” The mage tilts her head as she stares at him, considering. “I wonder what kind of king you will be. Tread carefully, Arthur,” she says before taking her leave.

 

  
Like far too often in recent days, Arthur is just making it up as he goes along. Truly the last thing he wants to do is meet with these Syrens, but he’s put it off for far too long already. He does not need them conspiring against him or aiding his enemies. 

Reaching up, Arthur rings the bell, walks to the water's’ edge, and waits. It’s not long before he see a disturbance in the previous calm water in the distance, ripples that grow as they move quickly towards him. He fists his hands at his sides as he fights the urge to wrap his fingers around Excalibur’s hilt, to step back away from the water.

At first all he sees is a writhing mass of tentacles, and then a woman’s head and full upper body appear.

“So it seems that the boy king has finally returned to take his rightful place on the throne.”

Another head and torso are revealed and she slips back into the water, coming closer to him. “So handsome my king.”

“What bargain to you seek, my lord?” the third asks when her head breaks the surface, closing the distance between them as well.

Arthur glances down at the tentacles that now surround his bare feet, occasionally touching him, shockingly cool and not slick as he’d expected. “I want a lot of things really, but mostly I want you gone.”

“We are tied to this place and not so easily removed.”

“No demands for power or riches? And what price are you willing to pay? Whose blood will you offer us?”

“You will have no blood but mine,” Arthur denies.

“King’s blood?”

“King’s blood!”

“It’s been so long since we’ve tasted King’s blood.”

“It’s a deal—”

“No,” Arthur interrupts. “There is no deal until you hear my terms, and I agree to yours.”

“You dare much, my lord. We’re listening.”

“Until the day my bones turn to dust, you will make a covenant with no other nor aid others in harming these lands or its occupants.”

“You’re much like your father.”

“What deal did my father make?” Arthur glances down as tentacles curl around his ankles.

“Oh, he also wanted us gone at first. Until we told him of the dark days to come. He didn’t believe us at first. But he returned like they all do.”

“What deal did you make with him?”

“We gave him time.”

“Time for what?”

“To have a family. To have you. To see you protected until the time you could take what was rightfully yours. We guided your boat carefully.”

“At what price?”

“You know the price, my lord. You were witness to it that night. Destiny can’t be evaded, merely delayed. Your mother’s blood was the sweetest we’ve tasted in centuries.”

Arthur refuses to rise to the bait, won’t play their games. “What are your terms?”

The Syrens laugh.

“So bold, my king.”

“What you seek is no small thing. We will require much more than a taste of your blood.”

Raised in a bordello, Arthur is no stranger to how these things go. Tossing Excalibur aside, its scabbard clatters against the rocks behind him as he raises his hands to pull his shirt over his head. The tentacles fall away as his hands drop to the ties of his trousers, shucking them down before stepping out of them. His smalls quickly follow, leaving him naked. He’s spread his arms wide, and twirls for their inspection. 

Arthur can feel the hunger in their gazes. It’s not modesty that causes Arthur to shiver. Any modesty he might have had had long since been stripped from him. No, he knows he’s playing with powers greater than any man.

“For twenty-four hours my body and blood are yours. You will not kill me or cause me any permanent damage. After that time is up, you follow the directions I have previously outlined.”

“You think very highly of yourself, my lord.” The title is said mockingly.

“You insult us.”

The tentacles are back, curling around and climbing up Arthur’s now bare skin, rising higher until he’s forced to spread his legs wider to make room for them as they nudge at his balls, drawing a sharp exhale from him.

“Once a year for seventy-two hours your blood and body are ours.”

“But there is one more boon we require.”

“Few come to use so willingly.”

One tentacle presses its flattened tip beneath Arthur’s balls, lifting them as though weighing their worth.

“There is such life within you.”

“We can taste it.”

“Long have we been three.”

“And we require your service in creating a fourth.”

Arthur bites back the immediate denial that wants to spring off his tongue. “And if I agree to this, they too will be bound by this bargain?”

The smile that crosses the largest Syren’s face is far from pleasant. “It is as you say, my king.”

“Tell me how it is done,” Arthur demands with more confidence than he’s feeling, unable to believe what he’s about to agree to.

A tentacle presses between Arthur’s asscheeks and presses against his tightly furled hole.

“For a month you will carry our egg.”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur shivers as he tell himself that they’re just big dicks. He’s been fucked by dicks of all sizes and this will be no different. Tentacles are just a new sort of fun. “And this won’t harm me?”

“No harm will come to you, especially with Excalibur near.”

Rising suspicious makes Arthur frown. “Will it have claim to Excalibur or the throne?”

“You’re so mistrustful, my lord.”

“What need do we have for thrones or swords?”

“That’s not a no,” Arthur challenges, brow raised. 

“She will have no more claim over Camelot or its magic than us.”

“From my understanding, you have a large vested claim in Camelot and its magic, so you’re not sounding particularly convincing here.” More tentacles rise from the water, twining around his stomach and chest. “You will give me your words that she nor her descendants will ever attempt to claim the throne or Excalibur.”

“What significance do such material things have to us?”

“You worry much.”

“But if it is our word you need, then you shall have it.”

“Do we have a deal, my lord?”

A tentacle wraps tightly around Arthur’s neck. “My men—”

“You’ve already given orders to your knights that they are not to seek you out for a week. They’ll wait three days before they disobey you and come looking. Do we have a deal?”

Arthur know that they’ll wait less than that. “Yes.” As soon as the word leave Arthur’s lips, the tentacles tighten around him and yank him beneath the water. He doesn’t struggle or try to shout, doesn’t waste precious air as he’s dragged beneath the water long enough that his lungs burn. Just when he can no longer fight the need to breath, his head breaks the surface and he pants, heaving in great lungfuls of air.

“Just some insurance in case someone seeks you out before we’re done. We’d hate to be interrupted.”

“So how are we going to do this then?” Arthur asks. 

Arthur’s answer comes in the way of breasts pressing against his front and back as a body slots itself between his thighs, but it’s not the usual cunt that he feels against his soft cock. The tentacles rub against him, and he can’t help but gasp, his cock slowly filling with blood as it hardens.

The water surrounds Arthur to his neck and is pleasantly cool, but allows him no leverage. Hands and tentacles caress him, teasing Arthur in ways he’s never experienced. They leave no inches of his skin untouched. Two focus on his sensitive nipples, flicking them again and again. His orgasm is slow to rise as he lets himself relax at the attention.

“Now, now, ladies. There is more than enough of me to go around,” Arthur teases. 

Soft lips drag against his skin, kissing against his neck, his nipples, the sensitive skin of his inner thigh before as one they sink their sharp teeth into him at the same time a tentacle pushes itself into his ass and rubs against that magic spot inside of him. Aching his back, balls rising, he comes with a shout, his seed lost in the water around him.

The mouth on his thigh pulls away and a tongue slides along his softening length.

Arthur tries to squirm away, suddenly fearful of those teeth. “Really that’s not necess—”

“Do not worry, my lord. We will not damage you irreparably.”

Arthur shouts again as he’s swallowed down, jerking as teeth scrape against him, his flagging erection quickly reaching full hardness again. His hips rock back again the tentacle that that’s slowly pressing itself deeper into him, hissing as he’s spread wider as another joins it. He pulls at the hair of the Syren still attached to his chest, and she snarls, her mouth wet with his blood as he presses his mouth against hers, his hands cupping her breasts. 

This Arthur knows; this he’s good at. She tastes like salt and copper, and he hisses as he cuts his tongue on her serrated teeth. She just moans and sucks his tongue into her mouth.

To say that this is going nothing like Arthur had imagined is quite a large understatement. Not that he’d gone into this with many expectations. Good think Arthur is good at making it up as he goes along. The Syrens don’t like when he gets too forceful, so he follows their lead, relaxing as they take what they want. It’s not what he’s used to, but he’s always been flexible. 

When his cock presses into a strange orifice, Arthur can’t help but fuck against it. It’s not like any cunt or ass or mouth he’s every fucked before, but she makes makes a happy sound when he rolls his hips as best he can. The hole contracts rhythmically around him while small protrusions massage him.

The pleasure isn’t enough to mask the pain as a third tentacle tries to press itself into Arthur’s already stuffed hole, and he gasps as he tries and fails to push his hips away from the intrusion. “I can’t.”

“You can, and you will, my lord.”

As it turns out, the Syren is correct. 

Times passes strangely after that, pleasure and pain that becomes ecstasy, stealing Arthur’s senses until all he can do is feel. It’s much like his times in the Darklands, ruled by instinct and desperation, wearing him down until he barely recognizes himself. 

When a tentacle presses between his lips, leaking blessed cool freshwater, he sucks on it greedily, the dizziness and weakness that he’d barely noticed fading away.

The Syrens shift around him, each eager drinking from his again and again, feasting on his blood and seed as they fill him with tentacles until his stomach bulges. It should be horrifying the way his stomach writhes and moves with the shifting bulk of the tentacles within him, but somehow it’s one of the hottest things he’s ever experienced.

The Syrens are obsessed with it, caressing the bulge with hands and tentacles, worshipping it.

Arthur know that this shouldn’t be possible, but he’s too far gone to think clearly about it. One presses so far down his throat, he wonders half hysterically if they’ve met somewhere in the middle.

Arthur tries to give as good as he gets, but with three against one, the odds just aren’t in his favor, and far too often for his liking he’s simply too exhausted or sated to be more than a passive participant. He passes out at times but wakes to find them still wrapped around him, filling him as he fills them.

“It’s time, my lord.”

Arthur barely has a moment to consider what is meant before the tentacles within suddenly pull out, leaving him empty for the first time in recent memory, and an impossibly thick tentacle is pressed into his gaping hole, stretching him more than he’s ever been. Arthur pants as it sink deeper and deeper, until his stomach bulges even more than it had previously, so high that he can no longer see his arching cock, until he’s worried that it will pass through him completely and rise out of his mouth.

When two smaller tentacles begin to worm their way into his already stuffed hole, Arthur can’t help but cry out. He cries out again as two mouths close over his nipples, tormenting the sensitive nubs.

“Relax, my lord.”

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have—” Arthur’s words breaks off with a shout, certain he’s tearing as something is forced into him. When it slides against his prostate, an orgasm is torn from him, an orgasm that never seems to end as the egg—there is an egg inside of him some part of Arthur distantly realizes—slides deeper within him. He comes so much it looks like he’s pissing seed, painting himself and the Syrens, turning the water around them cloudy with it. He’s certain he can feel his pelvis spreading, insides rearranging to make room for the egg.

The largest of the tentacles finally pulls free, leaving its gift deep within Arthur.

Arthur shivers at the empty feeling, at the rush of cool water that fills the space left by the tentacle, the two remaining now barely noticeable. A whine of protest rises from his throat, and as though a spell was broke, they descend on him, eager to fill him.

Tentacle after tentacle slip their way into Arthur, their excitement clear. He cries out as they all begin to vibrate within him, as his stomach starts to expand, ballooning before his eyes. He shakes with orgasm after orgasm until he’s certain he’s going to lose his mind.

Finally Arthur’s mind and body can take no more, and he sinks into darkness.

When he awakes again he’s being deposited with care on the submerged platform in the meeting chamber. Arthur can only lay there and pant, the pressure in his still large stomach, making it difficult to breathe. There’s not a part of him that doesn’t ache; he doesn’t want to fuck anyone or anything or be fucked by anyone anytime soon. Healing bite marks litter his body, and throb with each beat of his heart. He hisses in displeasure as a tentacle nudges at his soft cock.

One by ones the Syrens kiss him, their tentacles caressing his stomach seem loathe to pull away.

“Well met, my lord. We are satisfied by you offering.”

“Truly it was a pleasure, my lord.”

“In one month’s time we shall meet again.”

“Though you may desire to seek us out sooner.”

No, Arthur is fairly certain that he won’t. “I’m sure I—” Arthur begins, but is cut off. 

“Long live King Arthur.”

The Syrens pull back and tentacles fall away before they all slip beneath the water’s surface and out of sight.

There’s a strange finality to those words, but Arthur is too exhausted to think about it too hard as he weakly climbs to his feet and stumbles over towards his discarded clothing. His face twists in disgust as fluid drips out of him, and reaching to check out his hole, he shudders as he’s able to easily press four fingers into his body.

Arthur doesn’t shout as the mage suddenly steps out of the shadows, but it’s a near thing.

When she offers him a large cloak, Arthur snatched it from her hands, pulling it closed around his body as he eyes her suspiciously. “You knew.”

“I knew it was a possibility.”

Bending down to pick up Excalibur, Arthur hisses and straightens rapidly as the eggs suddenly shifts strangely within him.

“Don’t say a word.” Arthur says as he storms past her as best he can manage with his changed gate, pretending he doesn’t see her smirk. 

Slowly climbing the stairs, Arthur has a feeling it’s going to be a long month.


End file.
